


i've got you down, i know you by heart

by foolanyfriend



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ark AU, F/M, Guard Bellamy, Male-Female Friendship, Misunderstandings, Secret Relationship, Wells POV, outsider pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 08:06:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6044314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foolanyfriend/pseuds/foolanyfriend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Well, I maintain that she’s seeing someone,” Raven offers, standing up and dusting her hands off on her jeans. </p>
<p>“Think about it,” she continues, reaching down a hand to help Wells up from the cold library floor. “Suspicious absences? A sudden, conspicuous lack of free time? Clarke’s not the type to freeze us out without making us know what we did, so her getting some on the down low is basically the only option.”</p>
<p>Wells hums in vague agreement, searching his mind for another viable reason for Clarke's silence. He'd like to think she'd tell him if she was seeing someone new - details of the more private part of their relationship censored, of course. There's only so many times he can listen to his best friend detail her various exploits without wanting to physically bleach his brain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i've got you down, i know you by heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Makd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Makd/gifts).



> this was my bellarke secret valentine's fic for [5sos-bandcest](http://5sos-bandcest.tumblr.com) on tumblr (DoNotMicrowave on ao3), hope you enjoy!
> 
> the title is from "come in with the rain" by taylor swift

The corridors of the Ark have always been Well’s favourite part of the cavernous ship, the way that his footsteps echo off the metal floors a solid reminder that he’s real, tangible, that even though he and thousands of others are drifting through space on an a hundred-year-old hunk of metal, they still have a solid structure to call home. The dark streaks of oil and rust that mark the walls only serve to remind him of the fact that this place is lived in, that it’s a community, a family - a family of which his father is the patriarch.

The pressure of being the Chancellor’s son can be overwhelming at times; a lifetime of being treated as alien by his peers, most of them viewing him as stuck-up and prejudiced against them, has left Wells with a strange relationship with most people his own age. He learned quickly how to tell the true friends from the ones that treated his friendship like a chance at status, and he’s grateful that his best friend would never turn on him like he’s had acquaintances do in the past.

Clarke, Wells reflects, is possibly one of the best things to ever happen to him. They met when they were very young, their parents knowing each other because of Thelonious and Abby’s Council positions, and they’ve been scarily close ever since. They bring out the best in one another – Clarke reminds Wells that he can’t live inside his own head, forcing him out of his cabin to attend parties and actually spend time with their classmates, whilst he tempers Clarke’s abrasive tendencies. The give-and-take balances their friendship, and Wells can’t think of anyone else he’d rather be his best friend.

In fact, he’d say their bond is more like siblings, if he had any points of reference besides old books and videos. However they choose to describe it, the fact of the matter is that Clarke is the person who knows the real Wells best, not counting his father and girlfriend.

His girlfriend, who coughs loudly, breaking the silence and managing to draw the librarian’s attention. She glares at them, bristling with anger, and Raven snorts, ducking her head down and tucking her face into his shoulder so that her laughter goes unnoticed.

“We’ve been caught, Wells!” she stage-whispers, her breath fanning over the skin of his neck. “How  _dare_  people have fun in a library, we’ll be floated by morning.”

Wells finds himself having to bite back a smile too, glancing downwards at the mass of brown hair tucked under his arm.

“God, how will we deal with the shame?” he questions dryly, pushing his long-forgotten Earth Skills notes away, and dropping all pretence of actually studying. He and Raven have made a good effort, making their way through her stunningly boring Zero-Gravity material before taking a break that’s ended up lasting more than an hour.

They’ve done better than Clarke, regardless, as the blonde didn’t show up at all. Lateness isn’t unusual for her; she’s a busy person, her job at the clinic and packed social calendar mean that sometimes Wells feels like he has to fight to spend any real time with her. Still, it’s great to get alone time with Raven, even if he feels like lately, he’s seen significantly less of Clarke than usual.

He doesn’t know if he’s done something to offend her or what, but recently it’s seemed like every time he’s suggested they hang out, maybe watch an old soccer game like back in the good old days, has been met with a swift response of  _‘sorry Wells, I’m busy today/tomorrow/next Thursday.’_

He’s getting sick of it, to be honest. Wells doesn’t anger easily, he’s too much like his father, but when his best friend is acting like he has the 22nd Century equivalent of the Plague, he thinks he’s allowed a little slip in composure. Clarke skipping on their group study session marks the third time this week that she’s cancelled on him, this time citing an emergency training shift at the clinic. Between being willingly distracted by Raven and avoiding the glaring eye of the librarian, he’s contemplating tracking her down. Maybe if he corners her, and ropes Raven in for back-up, she won’t be able to brush him off with a paltry excuse about needing to wash her hair.

“Do you think she’s avoiding me?” he blurts out of nowhere.

“Who, Clarke?” Raven asks, repositioning slightly on the cold floor and wincing as she settles back down. “No, I think you’re being dumb.”

Wells sighs, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. “I can’t think of any other reason why she’d ignore me, have I done something stupid without realising?”

Raven shuffles closer, offering a comforting pat on his shoulder. “You’re just being paranoid. It’ll be explainable, just wait. She’s probably seeing someone and doesn’t want to tell you till she’s sure or something.”

He frowns; as a rule, he and Clarke don’t keep secrets from one another. The idea that she would keep something as big as this hidden is hurtful, after all, he told her as soon as he physically could when he and Raven got together, and didn’t think about telling anyone else first. She hasn’t mentioned anyone to him, apart from her normal comments when they walk to and from classes – stuff like  _‘that girl’s cute, don’t you think?’_  and  _‘look at that guard, the one on the left, with the hair.’_  That’s usual fare for Clarke, who doesn’t see the point in hiding her attraction to people - something which usually pays off for her.

“Hey,” Raven says, jolting him from his thoughts. “Everything alright? I thought I lost you there.”

“Nah, I’m fine,” he smiles, making an effort to make it seem genuine. “I was… I was just worrying about Clarke. It isn’t like her to be this late.”

“Late? I think Clarke’s passed straight into MIA territory.”

Raven sees his consternated frown and backpedals, scrambling ungracefully out from under his arm and kneeling in front of him.

“Hey, she’ll be fine. It’s Clarke, Wells, you know what she’s like. She probably just got distracted.”

“She’s been doing an awful lot of that lately,” he mutters darkly, gathering his notes towards him and starting to reorganise them into some semblance of order. “All of a sudden she doesn’t have time for anyone any more, and I don’t know if I’m worried or annoyed.”

“Well, I maintain that she’s seeing someone,” Raven offers, standing up and dusting her hands off on her jeans.

“Think about it,” she continues, reaching down a hand to help Wells up from the cold library floor. “Suspicious absences? A sudden, conspicuous lack of free time? Clarke’s not the type to freeze us out without making us know what we did, so her getting some on the down low is basically the only option.”

Wells hums in vague agreement, searching his mind for another viable reason for Clarke's silence. He'd like to think she'd tell him if she was seeing someone new - details of the more private part of their relationship censored, of course. There's only so many times he can listen to his best friend detail her various exploits without wanting to physically bleach his brain.

He sighs, slinging his bag over his shoulder and catching Raven’s hand, lacing their fingers together. They make their way towards the doors, trying to avoid the glares of the librarian and sniggering helplessly when they inevitably fail, and make their way to Wells’ apartment, deliberately using a winding route that takes them through almost all of Mecha Station before they arrive in Alpha.

The path they take is mostly quiet, although they pass the occasional classmate, and at one point Wells is stopped by a Council member and he’s forced to make incredibly awkward small-talk for five minutes, whilst Raven tries to pretend that she isn’t bored out of her skull beside him.

Once he manages to extricate himself from the conversation, they take a shortcut down a barely used corridor, and are about to turn a corner when Raven freezes.

“Wait,” she breathes. “Do you hear that?”

Wells strains his ears, and blushes when he catches on to what she means. There’s a couple around the corner, the man’s low voice murmuring something that he can’t hear clearly, but which makes his companion sigh. Even though he can’t make out the words, it’s clearly intimate, and the back of his neck prickles at the feeling that he and Raven really shouldn’t be here.

“Come on, Rae. Let’s just go the other way.”

“You’re no fun, Wells,” Raven sighs, but nevertheless, she turns and slips her hand into his once more. They make a swift about turn and walk back the way they came, breaking into a faster pace when they hear footsteps echoing down the corridor behind them. The last thing they need is to be seen spying, especially because it could be literally anyone behind them, from classmate to enemy.

Finally, they come to a section of the corridor that converges into a fork, one leading to the canteen and the other down the twisting path that leads to Agro, and Wells and Raven stop to take a breath. Their peace is abruptly disturbed, however, by the return of the thudding footsteps, this time almost running towards them.  

Wells pauses, eyes flicking back and forth as he surveys the corridor. There’s nowhere to go and he knows it, so their best option is to act like they’re in the corridor by coincidence. Thankfully, they’ve ended up not too far from the main hub of the Ark, so it’s not too much of a stretch to believe that they’ve simply wandered off in search of some privacy.

He hears the footsteps draw closer and panics, all at once pulling Raven in and backing her against the wall, dipping his head down to catch Raven’s lips with his. This is always easy with them, and sometimes Wells feels like he and Raven have been together for years instead of just months. Even with his heart pounding in his chest, kissing Raven feels like coming home.

She gasps in surprise, which turns into a choked-off moan as he deepens the kiss, his hands coming up to tangle in her hair and cradle the curve of her waist. Wells loses himself in her, forgetting entirely the reason that they’re in this situation.

In fact, Wells would have been quite content to stay like that for quite some time, if it hadn’t been for Raven gently pushing him away and peering over his shoulder.

“Clarke?” she asks, and Wells lets go of her and spins around so quickly he nearly falls.

 His best friend is standing frozen opposite them, her hair mussed and a spectacularly shocked expression splashed across her face. She’s doing a fantastic impression of a deer caught in the headlights, and her inside-out shirt and the spectacular hickey blooming bright at the base of her throat clue Wells into what, exactly, has been keeping her so busy lately.

“Clarke?” Wells echoes, and she stares back at him, her mouth open slightly. A blush rises high on her cheeks, twin spots of colour that mean that he can’t tell whether she’s embarrassed or annoyed.

“Hey,” she begins, rubbing the back of her neck and conveniently hiding the worst of the hickey from view. “Fancy meeting you here, right?”

Raven snorts inelegantly, reaching out to playfully punch Clarke on the shoulder.

“Look at you! Either you had an unfortunate run-in with a vacuum or there’s someone you haven’t told us about.”

She turns to Wells, grinning smugly with an expression that screams  _‘I told you so,’_  although she magnanimously refrains from taunting him out loud. Clarke murmurs something undecipherable beside her, and Wells is just about to ask her to repeat herself when the silence is broken yet again by the unmistakable sound of footsteps.

“Jesus Christ,” Raven mutters, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “Is this all of a sudden the busiest corridor on this ship or what?"

Raven glances to Clarke for support, grinning widely, but Clarke’s eyes are wide open in horror. She takes two swift steps backwards, until her back brushes against the wall. She opens her mouth to say something, but a voice echoing down the corridor, a voice that Wells recognises, stops her before she can.

“Clarke? Babe, I’ve gotta go, Mom asked me to stop back home before the start of my shift. I’ll see you tomorrow? I know you’ve got- oh.”

The voice rounds the corner, and Raven gasps in recognition.

“Bellamy?”

“Reyes,” the guard - or cadet, Wells isn’t sure - replies warily, his eyes darting from her to Clarke and back again. He and Raven are clearly familiar with one another, and Wells is certain he’s seen him before too. The Ark isn’t that big of a ship, and he’s positive this curly-haired guard has been on shift outside the clinic at least half of the times he’s walked past. It’s nice to finally be able to put a name to the face, even if it’s in surprising circumstances.

There’s silence, as Raven surveys Bellamy who surveys Wells who surveys Clarke. The tension rises quickly, and Wells’ natural peace-making instincts rise quickly to the surface.  

“So…” he starts, desperate to break the fragile silence that’s settled over the group. “You and Clarke?”

Bellamy rakes a hand through his hair, a smile on his face that’s both proud and bashful.

“Uh, I guess there’s no point in hiding it any more, right?” he says, moving closer to Clarke and placing a reassuring arm around her shoulders.  They look like they fit together, Wells notes, the contrasts in their appearances - Clarke’s blonde to Bellamy’s dark, the couple of inches he has on her height-wise - making them look suited to one another. There was something in their eyes, too, something that made Wells think that their bond was much deeper than casual hook-ups in hidden corridors.

Clarke clears her throat, absent-mindedly fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

“We’ve been together for two months, give or take a couple of days? Wells, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, but it was new and exciting, and then it was more exciting having a secret, having that was something just for us. You get it, right?”

Clarke hasn’t had a lot of luck in love, and if this Bellamy guy is making her happy - and she looks it, he thinks, what with the small, subconscious smile that spread across her face as soon as he appeared - then Wells likes him already. All he wants for Clarke is for her to be happy.  

He smiles warmly, making Clarke smiles in response, and the feeling that spreads through him can only be described as contentment. Of course he’s not mad, and he tells her as much, revelling in the way that her joy spreads across her face as Bellamy ducks to brush a kiss across her cheek. It’s a moment Wells thinks he’ll remember for a while: he’s got his two favourite people next to him, and with Bellamy next to her, Clarke’s in the best mood he can remember her being in for a while.

That’s enough for him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! feel free to follow me on [tumblr](http://mayavive.tumblr.com), prompts are open and all that jazz


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